


In the Light of Gold

by xLion_Heartx



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Charlie is Doing His Best, Dialogue Heavy, Elena Would Like to Go Home, F/M, Game: Uncharted 4: A Thief's End, Kidnapping, My First Work in This Fandom, Nadine Ross is Quite Friendly, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Pregnancy, Protective Chloe Frazer, Rafe Threatens a Pregnant Lady Y'all, She'd Also Like Snacks, Some of the Mercs Feel a Little Bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25960198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLion_Heartx/pseuds/xLion_Heartx
Summary: One thing's for sure, Rafe Adler and Shoreline mercenaries aren't exactly what Elena was expecting to see at her door one evening - minutes before she shared some rather important news with her husband.Her husband, she might add, that has apparently lied to her about what job he's doing (about having a brother too, she refuses to forget) and has put her in a situation where she's held at gunpoint. Again.Her top priority is getting through this goddamn trip alive, and making sure Nate doesn't get himself killed either.
Relationships: Charlie Cutter & Chloe Frazer, Charlie Cutter & Elena Fisher, Elena Fisher & Chloe Frazer, Elena Fisher & Nadine Ross, Elena Fisher & Victor Sullivan, Nathan Drake & Samuel Drake, Nathan Drake & Victor Sullivan, Nathan Drake/Elena Fisher, Samuel Drake & Elena Fisher
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	In the Light of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Hi these characters mean more to me than they should and I've been replaying all the Uncharted games before I move to uni and here I am, with a fic.  
> The symptoms and such of pregnancy are only slightly focused on, because I have never been pregnant, and research can only get me so far - this is more about our little treasure family, and my self-indulgent ass wanting Elena around from the start of the game because she is my favourite character and I love her.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy !

Elena watches the water spiral down the drain as she finishes drying one of the many plates that have been stacking up over the last few days. The house is quiet, warm light leaking across the walls of the staircase from the hallway light upstairs, a few lamps bathing the living room area in a whiter light; the TV plays a news channel on a quiet volume, she's not really paying attention, just trying to fill the silence that, by now, would usually be filled with conversation over dinner. But she'd eaten alone tonight.

She's happy for Nate, for taking the job _she_ convinced him to do - yes only after Jameson got the permits but still - so she really has no room to complain. She can though, so she will; to herself at least.

He'd called her when he landed, complaining about turbulence and aeroplane food in a successful attempt to make her laugh. Something had twinged his voice though, she assumed it was from his discomfort after the flight (he hasn't been in a plane crash since Yemen, but that doesn't quite stop his anxiety from peaking) but something about it makes her worry more than usual.

She eyes her phone on the coffee table across the room, face down beside her laptop that displays an email from her editor she needs to read. Nate isn't supposed to call until tomorrow night, then their agreed every-other-day phone call would start, but she desperately needs to talk to him; ever since she found out the news this morning she'd been mulling over whether to tell him over the phone or wait until he comes home, but he'd told her the job might get extended last minute depending on circumstances, so that made her choice a little easier. This isn't the sort of thing she'd feel okay keeping from him for months.

Drying her hands, she tosses the dishcloth onto the counter in a heap and crosses the room, switching the TV onto something less dull, she shoves a pile of laundry to one side of the sofa, adamant about not folding those tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either.

She drops into the open seat, running a hand over her eyes and casting a glance at her laptop, also opting to shove email-responding to tomorrow - or the day after, really whichever day she has more motivation - so she closes the screen and pushes it further onto the table, plucking up her phone next. Her fingers type her passcode rapidly, sliding open her contacts and clicking Nate's number before she can think too much harder about it.

Her legs come up onto the sofa, curling against her chest as she presses the phone to her ear, listening to the ringing as she pulls on a loose thread on her sock. She's only left with her thoughts for a fleeting moment, Nate, in his usual fashion, picks up after a couple of buzzes.

"Elena?" He sounds tired, voice husky like she'd just woken him up - which is weird considering it should be the late morning for him, but it might be the jetlag - she listens to him shift around, either sitting up or getting comfortable, "hi."

"Hi," she responds softly, twisting the loose thread between her fingers and pulling at it, "sorry, did I wake you up?"

"What? No," he drags the words out, his voice an octave high enough to make her smile, "and even if you did I'll always make time for you."

She snorts, "I would hope so."

She hears him shift again, "everything okay?"

Inhaling, she bites the inside of her cheek and mumbles, "I really need to tell you something."

"What?" He sounds more alert in a single second, voice no longer much of a tired murmur, "are you okay? Did something happen?"

A laugh bubbles out of her without much thought, "don't sound so ready to fly home, Cowboy, you need this trip."

There's a chuckle, but it sounds forced, "yeah... I miss you though."

"I miss you too." She does, her resounding dislike for the house being so quiet has made that quite clear.

Suddenly the doorbell rings, Nate huffs a laugh as she tells him to hold on, exasperated. She traps the phone between her shoulder and her ear, smiling while listening to Nate chatter about something he 100% talked (at length) about in their earlier call, and fiddling with the keys for just a second before jamming them into the lock-

She sucks in a breath, too fast she's sure, but opening the door to find armoured men and _Rafe Adler_ \- she didn't write an article on his company just to forget his damn face - in a gathering on her porch isn't something she can't avoid a reaction for. They all have a weapon of some kind, but Adler's is the only one actually pointed at her, he's _smiling_ , a quirk of his lips like he isn't a stone's throw away from her neighbours calling the police or like her husband isn't still on the phone with her.

Her attention flickers from the imminent danger to the men around it, they're looking between each other like they were expecting something completely different than Elena in all her barely-average-height glory - as if she's going to wander her own house in anything other than fluffy socks and Nate's leftover shirts. 

"'Lena?"

She forces a cough from her throat, zeroes back in on Adler, and watches as he nods towards her phone, still smiling- no _smirking_. Jackass.

"Nate," her eyes flash down to the gun for a second, "I'm gonna have to call you back."

She can practically hear him frown, "you okay, Hun?"

"Yeah, just, something came up. I'll call you tomorrow, promise." Something tells her she won't get the chance - most definitely the guns - but the promise gives her hope and, ideally, doesn't worry Nate enough to pull away from this job.

"Alright," he hesitates, swallowing, if he were on one of his hunts she'd be able to picture him throwing a look at Sully, "I love you."

"I love you too, Cowboy." 

She pulls the phone away slowly, still not breaking eye contact and hanging up where Adler can see it. He lowers the gun, but only slightly, and then the group are stepping into her living room; she lets them watch her place her phone - face up - on top of her laptop, taking several exaggerated steps backwards until she's back in the kitchen and watching them just as closely.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr Adler?"

The man grins, "Ah, I see my reputation precedes me," he gives one look behind him and a few of the lighter-armed men start wandering her downstairs, "as does yours, Miss Fisher- or, is that Mrs Drake now?"

"Fisher-Drake."

"Hyphenation," he sounds impressed, but she's quite certain he isn't, "how modern of you."

She toys with her wedding ring, eyes narrowing at her intruder, "listen, Mr Adler, I don't wanna be rude, but, you have just walked into my house with heavy weaponry and mercenaries. I think I deserve an explanation."

"That you do," he pauses, turning back to the most armoured man and nodding towards the staircase, she tries not to follow him with her eyes. "Well, let me begin by asking where your husband happens to be?"

"In Malaysia."

"Boys we have a liar on our hands-" she glares "-no, not you sweetheart, Mr Drake happens to have kept you out of the loop, he'll be in Italy already I imagine."

"Italy?" She has some questions, most of them definitely not for Adler.

He hums, glancing too casually around the room, "black market auction at the Rossi Estate for a cross _I'm_ trying to spend good money on to get my hands on Henry Avery's treasure."

"And what exactly makes you believe my husband is going after this cross, _or_ this treasure?"

He taps the barrel of his gun against his knee, leaning forward as if to share a well-kept secret, "a little birdie let me know Victor Sullivan was on the guest list."

She folds her arms, leaning back against the counter finally, "Nate and Sully aren't attached at the hip." Not anymore.

"Maybe not," his expression morphs into a sneer, "but I sure as hell know where Samuel Drake would go the second he stole _my_ research."

She pauses, fingers digging into her biceps. He notices her shift, eyes flashing up and down her figure before he looks down-right delighted.

"Ohoho, well, _well_. Tell me, sweetheart," she tries not to glare, the nickname has nowhere near the affectionate ring coming out of his mouth as it does Sully's, "if not the dear old brother, what _do_ you know about Drake?"

"Plenty."

Unlike most people, she can read between the lines. How he spoke about his mother with enough admiration to tell her he loved and admired the woman but she was taken from him before he was old enough to comprehend too much. How he never mentioned a father, Sully taking up the mantle every time he told the Columbia story and his teen escapades that followed. How he murmured in his sleep about things he was too embarrassed or cautious to admit he was afraid of, about people he'd lost.

Nate gives her enough credit to know she figured out enough about his parents to either not bring them up, or only talk about his mom. Sam's a name she's heard, mumbled into the darkness of their bedroom on a bad night, she never thought he'd be so important.

She never forced Nate to elaborate on his nightmares, just as he never forced her. Maybe that was their slip-up, not pushing, but knowing the kind of people they are, pushing would have led to a fight and they promised each other years ago they wouldn't do that again.

Definitely doesn't mean they're not having a talk when she sees him again. She would like, at the very least, an excuse for him lying to her about the job, never mentioning a _brother_ , being the reason for her getting kidnapped and held at gunpoint _again_.

A month of dish and laundry duty is definitely in the cards… maybe two months, just to get her point across.

"So, what?" She finally huffs, shifting to stand a little more solidly in her own kitchen, "you want me to pack a bag and come with you to Italy to scare Nate out of going after this treasure."

Adler flashes his teeth, "I'm glad we understand each other."

"What makes you think he'll give up just because he sees me?" Stupid question, everyone who's ever even heard of Nate knows why.

"Well, if there's one thing I've figured out about Nathan Drake, it's that he doesn't care if he gets hurt," he gestures vaguely with his gun in the direction of the discolouration peaking out from her collar, "he cares if people like you get hurt."

She subconsciously reaches up, covering the scar with her hand, "congratulations, you figured out his big neon sign," she stares for a moment, eyes narrowing, "I've met people worse than you, Adler."

He smirks again - can he have one other cocky expression? - and turns to watch the staircase, "I know all about the people you've met, Fisher. You're a brave one, I'll give you that." The big hulking boots of the armoured man start thudding along her hallway, "I know I need more than just a gun to get you to cooperate."

 _And here it comes_ she can't help but think, biting her lip as the armoured man comes stomping downstairs - tracking _mud_ over her carpet - with the little stick she'd left in the bathroom held in his hands.

Rafe's eyes gain an excited gleam upon seeing it, holding it between his fingers to stare at the pink lines, he has his leverage, they both know it; the excitement only seems to get brighter when he looks back up at her. He raises his gun again, not to her head this time.

"Whaddaya say, Mrs Fisher-Drake, trip to Italy?"

She forces a smile, running her thumb along the surface of her wedding ring, "Let's not make a scene in front of my neighbours, shall we?"

He grins back at her, "of course not."

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to interact !
> 
> My Twitter ~ https://twitter.com/_solarheart_  
> My Tumblr ~ https://lion-hearts136.tumblr.com/  
> My CC ~ https://curiouscat.qa/_solarheart_  
> My Ko-fi ~ https://ko-fi.com/bambean


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